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Unrecognized, untracked, I departed from Naples. Wrapped in my cloak, and stretched in a sort of heavy stupor on the deck of the "Rondinella," my appearance apparently excited no suspicion in the mind of the skipper, old Antonio Bardi, with whom my friend Andrea had made terms for my voyage, little aware of the real identity of the passenger he recommended.
la rondinella presso la mattina, e che la mente nostra pellegrina più dalla, carne e men da' pensier presa, alle sue vision quasi è divina. A few times only did I succeed in falling asleep with unbroken consciousness. This occurred when I was very tired and fell quickly into a deep sleep.
At six o'clock on Friday morning the 'Rondinella, that is the brig I told you of, eccellenza, will weigh anchor for Civita Vecchia. Her captain, old Antonio Bardi, will wait ten minutes or even a quarter of an hour if necessary for the the " "Passenger," I supplemented. "Very amiable of him, but he will not need to delay his departure for a single instant beyond the appointed hour.
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